Titanium Core: Borderlands (Updated 26/03/18)

[Shankbot de Bodemloze]

Lucky enough they stumbled across him... makes their life easier.

[HunterKYA]

Intel

By this time, it was now early afternoon when the group delivered Jameson to the militia precinct, with a fair bit of animosity between Braedan and Talia. This was plain to see when the Xelanite officer transferred the agent into their custody. During which point the officer was detailing instructions as to the due process of the criminal, requiring the mercenaries, bounty hunters, or the like who apprehended the suspect, must bear witness to their testimony; so should the need arise to appear at the sentencing, they can bear accurate retelling of events. The group would need to remain within the precinct until state representatives could be summoned, in order to extract information from the suspect. Nearing the conclusion of the officer's instruction, Braedan began hearing Talia's grumbling over his shoulder. Asking the officer to hold that thought for a second, he politely smiled and turned to see what the issue was with his female subordinate. Braedan chuckled, “A little impatient, are we?” Talia crossed her arms, scoffed, and rolled her eyes in response. “Look sweetheart, I'd rather be someplace else too. Things would pass a might faster if you'd stop acting like a spoiled diva for five seconds, so we can get through this sooner than it would've taken to turn around and scold you. Again. But if you don't mind, I'd like to get this done, so I can worry about sleeping on a couch tonight. We clear?” Looking back at the officer, the mercenary asked, “Representatives you said?” “Yes, a Courtesan and Prosecutor have been contacted. They will be here shortly. Occupy your time accordingly until their arrival,” the officer monotonously stated. Nodding, Braedan then went over to lean against a nearby wall, seeing that there was nothing resembling benches, or seats for that matter. Talia and Brax followed suit. The only places to rest were the wall, floor, or a quartet of pillars in the center of the precinct's 'welcoming' area, if that were the proper term for it. Whomever it was they were sending, hopefully it was quick; because having been on his feet the majority of the day, Edhen's sudden mood swings, and Talia's unruliness of late, it was safe to say Braedan's weariness was growing. His companion's chose to rest on the floor, the captain, however, elected to stay upright. Holding his poise like a statue, periodically checking his watch at five or ten minute increments, as the trio waited for the representatives to make their entrance into the precinct. The bright light of afternoon was beginning to slowly dissipate into evening, and the mercenaries and their peculiar friend, having lost track of time, were still anticipating the arrival of the Courtesan and Prosecutor. Braedan had stopped checking his watch, instead staring at either the wall on the opposite side of the room, or the ceiling; Talia, in the mean time, had nodded off to sleep, resting her head on her captain's leg, and Brax, was the most unfazed of the bunch, still reciting the trivia he'd learned. If patience was indeed a virtue, these Xelanites sure knew how to push it; for despite having stopped looking over his watch, the merc leader had quietly calculated they'd been upwards of four hours, a stretch that would test anyone's tolerance. Moment's later, the precinct's doors slid open. A man and a woman, walking together, approached the officer Braedan had spoken with to speak to him. His eyes had followed them intently the whole time, and when the officer gestured his head towards the wall, the pair made their way over. Seeing this, Braedan nudged Talia awake with his knee. Startled, she comically and incoherently mumbled, “No mummy, I didn't take the Delights,” before gathering her senses. Gazing down at her and grinning, Braedan asked “You doing okay there?” “Did I just say that?” Talia questioned, still in the process of waking up. Her captain nodded, “Yeah, you just said that,” just before the Courtesan and Prosecutor had found their way over to them. The Courtesan asked, “Are you the group who captured the fugitive?” Braedan replied simply, “Yes.” The woman, who stood close to six feet tall, possessed an athletic frame on a curvy body, had moderate-length chestnut brown hair, done in an updo, along with piercing hazel eyes and sun-kissed skin. Were there no complicating matters to get in the way, he'd almost think about hitting on her. Yet, while the woman had the outward appearance of being youthful, there was a glaring tell Braedan couldn't get past: her eyes. Everything else about her might have been foreign to him, though he could have sworn to having seen those eyes before. Figuring out where was the challenge. Holding proper posture, she introduced herself, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Nicasia Velia Aemiliana, Courtesan of the Spear,” then gesturing to her side, “And this is Severus Corvinus, Prosecutor of Bellicus district.” Without further discussion, the Xelanites turned and began walking to the sealed doors, behind which lay the interior of the precinct, where the Alliance agent had been taken earlier. Braedan had to hoist Talia up to her feet so they wouldn't lag too far back, then Brax trailed behind in his usual carefree way. “Where, might I ask, did you find this person?” the Courtesan uttered abruptly, waiting for the doors to open. Braedan said, having just gotten to her as the doors slid open, “We found him being thrown out of a bar in one of the lower districts. Clearly, he wasn't a great tipper.” The remark was meant to break the ice between the two groups. However, it was evident that the Courtesan and Prosecutor weren't very amused. “Hmm...a place of that sort, it's not at all shocking, given his kind. Filth like this have a habit of engaging in slovenly behavior, and as a result, become a disruption,” the Courtesan said contemptuously, keeping pace with Corvinus ahead of the mercenaries. There was no further dialogue exchange until they reached the outside of the interrogation room. Speaking in relation to Braedan, Nicasia projected ire as she spoke, “I don't know of your people or their ways, human, I'd rather not occupy my time with the effort. What you must understand, if your people are indeed capable, is that you are to be like darkness, silent and still, unless given permission to do any different. Whatever sympathies or loyalties that may be hidden away, are to be kept here, outside this room.” After the doors slid open and they entered, the room itself was dimly lit, save for the area where Jameson was being held. On his knees, his wrists were bound, outstretched, and magnetically suspended over his head. Braedan, Talia, and Brax were shown, not told, where they'd been spending the duration of the interrogation. They watched as the Courtesan and Prosecutor assumed their places before the questioning began. The Prosecutor started by going through the rights of the accused, the charges for which Jameson was accused of committing, and how this 'session' as they referred to it, was to ascertain the severity of the crimes before proper sentencing at a later time. It took no longer than five minutes for Corvinus to play his role, then it was left for Nicasia to do the rest. Standing before the prisoner, the Courtesan stared at him, holding an aire of superiority over the captured agent as his head hung marginally upright. Partially leaning down, Nicasia's mouth held a slight smirk, gliding her fingertips across Jameson's bearded face. He looked up, his eyes reeking of defiance, as she stood tall once more. Beginning to walk back and forth in front of him, slowly, letting her gait hold influence over the room, Nicasia allowed her curves do the talking for now. Only when she felt the time was proper would she speak. Speaking with confidence, “Why do you continue this fruitless endeavor, hmm? Your people won't be coming to rescue you. You were expendable in their eyes. Your people abandoned you here, left you here to languish for their misguided ambitions. Their fight is lost, as is yours. Why fight for those looking out only for themselves? For our sake, and for yours, it would be best to tell us what we want to know, as it would save you the pain of what resistance brings.” “I know what you're doing, witch,” Jameson muttered defiantly, “you won't be getting in my head so easy.” The Courtesan snickered at his resilience, a sultry grin on her lips. “There's much a person's eyes can say about them,” she stopped in front of him, gliding the back of her fingers across the bottom of Jameson's chin, “By the look in yours, I've been in your mind since I walked in the room.” Jameson stared the Courtesan down, “Don't think we haven't heard of your kind, wench! We've heard rumors of what you whores do to people. I won't be telling you anything!” In a final gesture, he spit at her feet. Remaining composed, Nicasia turned around, placing one hand over the other. Using her thumb, she pressed into a jewel on the thin bracelet she was wearing on her wrist. This action sent strong, short, intermittent shocks coursing through Jameson's body, by way of the suspension binders he was wearing. Grimacing, gritting his teeth, it was a feat that he didn't scream, given the intensity. “What a pity,” she sighed, “This could have been so much easier, had you cooperated like a good boy.” Brax averted his eyes, with this being the first real sight of cruelty that he'd witnessed on his own. Talia, however, was made to watch by Braedan, because he wanted to show her what would happen in the event of capture. What would happen if anyone in the Alliance got hold of any of them, only it would be far worse than what Jameson was getting. Braedan's eyes were fixated, his face emotionless as the torture persisted, reminded of what horrors Fig likely had to endure in the months leading up to his death, and how he could expect the same should things go to hell. An hour into the ordeal, Jameson broke his silence and confessed, “Anders...Rikard....A-A-Anders,” before falling unconscious from the mental and physical exhaustion. To all others, that name was just that – a name. To Braedan, it meant something of great significance. He imagined grabbing Jameson by his shirt, hoisting him up, and forcefully getting more information out of the agent, because a name wasn't much to go on. Before he knew it however, Braedan found himself standing where he'd been the whole time, with Talia and Brax at his side, as the Courtesan and Prosecutor were preparing to leave. It was the only lead he'd had in years, of any kind, about his former commander. Jameson had been the first step into finding Anders. Whatever transpired from this point onward, would be on Braedan's journey to killing him. When they were escorted from the precinct, the last shades of light were vanishing over the horizon, with hues of red, orange, and yellow giving way to those of pink and purple of late evening, before all colors faded to black for the night. The trio walked in silence through the city's streets, still absorbing what they'd seen. Even Brax, whose normally sunny disposition could brighten anyone's mood, was at a loss for words, his eyes waxed over, not so much by the torture itself, but by the Courtesan's mirthful behavior in moments leading up to it. The closer they got to the Residence, the fewer people were seen, as the lights from homes came on, one by one, to brighten the darkened world outside. Streets lamps had come on by the time Braedan, Talia, and Brax found their way back to the villa, most of whose lights were off, save for a few, that could be seen along the avenue leading up to the house. Entering through the front gate, they moved through the living area, which was only dimly lit. Each of them then split off to their separate rooms, to reflect on the uncharacteristically eventful day they'd experienced. Upon going to the bedroom, where he'd expected to find Edhen either sleeping or reading, Braedan found that she wasn't there, and went searching for her. From the tablinum to the garden out back to the impluvium, he scoured everywhere he could think of, but couldn't find any trace of his wife. Doing this for close to ten minutes, he began to get concerned that she may have gone and done something rash. It wasn't until Braedan was passing around the peristylium, one of the last places he had to look, that he found her at last. Remaining silent, shaded by the overhang, he stood there as she admired the flowers amidst the slow trickling of the small fountain nearby. Edhen hadn't yet caught on she was being watched, which was what Braedan intended, and seeing her content was all he wanted or wished for, on an otherwise troubling day. He was about to turn around to leave, not wanting to burden her with the thought of their earlier spat or what he'd seen, deciding to let her be alone. That was until his boot scuffed the floor, letting Edhen know someone was there. “Tyler, is that you?” she asked, concerned, as her eyes panned the area until finally spotting him. The weary husband stepped forward from the shadows, to his dutiful wife, bathed in the moonlight. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tablinum - study or office Impluvium - small catch basin for rainwater Peristylium - interior garden

[Alwyn]

It's great to see this enjoyable chapter re-appearing after the forum was rolled back. I enjoy the contrast between the lighter and humorous moments (such as Talia talking in her sleep) and the much more serious experience which Jameson goes through.

[HunterKYA]

First Steps

Coming closer to the light, he could see Edhen was wearing her hair down, with its dark brown strands gently curling over her face. Approaching her at a saunter, the moonlight that was streaming in embraced her, caressing her every curve, accentuating her every feature. There within his presence was this mortal goddess, standing there as a vision, literal and figurative, of the life Braedan wanted so desperately to live; though he knew if that plateau were ever reached, the soldier wouldn't know what he'd do with it, since it would require leaving the only life he'd known since childhood. It felt like for every bit of happiness or joy, there was that lonely, almost temperate feeling that their paths would diverge from each other. Dressed in relaxed evening wear, it was light and airy against the contours of her heavenly form. In comparison, Braedan in his rugged, dirty recon gear made him appear out of place, like a refugee dragged in from the street, looking for a handout from the well-to-dos. Step by step as he moved closer, the beauty had plucked a small cyan-colored flower and nestled the stem behind her ear, presenting a wonderful contrast from her dark hair and smooth, tanned skin. He was still several steps away when she lightly observed, “You've been gone a while.” “Recalling what happened earlier, someone wasn't in the mood and told me to leave. Maybe that's why I wasn't too hasty in getting back sooner,” Braedan noted. “Perhaps it was the result of someone taking offense to what the other said, and was insisting on time to themselves to clear the air,” Edhen unkindly jabbed, hiding the true meaning. Effortlessly, she glided over until she was within arm's reach, locking her eyes with his. Flashing a harmless enough smile, “I can overlook our disagreement from this morning. I promise no harm will come to the lamia, seeing she keeps her hands to herself. Should she, in any way, touch you, kiss you, or otherwise try to make advances on you, I will find the coordinates to your ship, render that meretrix unconscious, and personally toss her into the Void.” Somewhat humbled by her words, Braedan hesitated before saying, “It's good we could get that out of the way then.” “Not as much as you'd believe, meus diligo. You know best not to tread on thin ice...she doesn't,” Edhen corrected him, a deceptively calm look on her face. Having established her leverage, the Courtesan ambled back to the fountain, lazily tracing her fingers back and forth through the water. Clearing his throat, Braedan asked in a timely fashion, “You know the matter you asked me to look into?” “You're talking about the attempts to steal our research? Yes, what about it?” Edhen replied. Braedan rubbed the back of his neck, laughing, “As luck would have it, we didn't really have to look too hard. We were going about our search in the lower districts, and, for all intents and purposes, quite literally had him dropped in our laps, when he was thrown out of a bar as we were walking by.” Rolling her eyes, she sighed, “Is that the reason you cut me off?” Shrugging his shoulders, Braedan answered truthfully, “I'd be lying if I said no. But we got the guy in binders and got him to the nearest militia precinct about an hour or so later. After they look him into custody, we were told to wait for the contacted representatives to arrive before performing the interrogation.” “Is that why you were late?” she vehemently insisted. “Well...yes and no. The representatives they contacted took their sweet time getting there, meaning we were left to wait the whole time. Talia fell asleep on my leg and Brax recited trivia the whole time. When the reps did arrive, as luck would have it, one of them turned out to be a Courtesan,” he answered. Partially turning her shoulder, Edhen glanced over to her husband to inquire, “Would you be able to recount which of them precisely?” “Umm, Courtesan of the Spear...Nicasia Velia Aemiliana I believe, if that means anything,” Braedan told her. Folding her arms and looking away, Edhen's voice echoed of derision, “Of all those they could have sent, they chose to send her instead, knowing how I'd feel if I found out.” Mentally scratching his head, he said, “It sounds like you know this person I presume.” “As well I should, being that Nicasia is my mother,” she replied regretfully. He cocked his head to the side in disbelief, “You're s----ing me! She barely looked any older than you.” “In all the time we've known each other, there's still much I haven't told you, least of all how we age. Weren't you ever curious why I never spoke of my mother, made much mention of her, even in passing? It's because I hold her in such low regard,” Edhen confessed, her mood visibly changing. Braedan perked up and snapped his fingers, “Her eyes...her eyes were a dead give away. I looked right at them and knew I'd seen them before, but I couldn't pinpoint where at the time.” The Courtesan, with sorrow, shook her head, “That woman and I share too many traits, in both our physical features and personalities. Be thankful I use mine differently.” Going over to him, quietly, Edhen walked with soft, deliberate steps. The gentle curls of her hair settling just in front of her eyes as she took Braedan by the hands. For a second, she held her head before looking up at him affectionately. “Would you always love me? Would you promise to revere me, no matter what may come?” she whispered. He asked worriedly, “Hun, where are you going with this?” Edhen again whispered, “Tyler...please, just say you'd love me, regardless of whatever happened.” “Of course I would. You know I would. I fought through a war to get back to you; nowhere, at any point, did I have plans of letting you go,” he consoled her, his words spoken with fondness and warmth, brushing hair from her eyes. Putting her hands around his waist, Edhen rested her head on Braedan's chest, his arms wrapping themselves around her. Speaking with an open heart and soft voice, she said, “I'm pregnant.” Several moments passed, silence enveloping the garden, save for the trickling of the fountain. “I'm not ready to be a mother,” Edhen told him, her cries muffled by the padding on his chest. “I wasn't ready to be a soldier, despite my training,” he said to comfort her anxiety, “but as a solider, you have to adapt to any situation, at any time.” She sobbed, “That's what a soldier's supposed to do...soldiers are meant to be strong.” Braedan countered, “It didn't take long after we met to see you were proud, strong-willed, a little arrogant, and stubborn. But soon enough, you revealed how intelligent, thoughtful, confident, loving, and accepting a person you were beneath it all. I realized how I could travel the stars a thousand years, and not find someone else like that.” “You also forgot how I'm the only person who could put up with you,” Edhen grinned, her mood having improved, “but I forgive you, because you're like me in every way.” “Except without the lady parts, you mean?” Braedan joked, to further lighten the atmosphere. She backed away a bit, smiling, “Yes...except without the lady parts. You wise ass.” “Well meus carus, I need to get some rest for tomorrow,” the Courtesan whispered softly, kissing his mouth, and starting off back toward the interior of the villa to the bedroom. Braedan stood there, admiring the view as she was walking away, the curves of her backside seductively playing with his thoughts, as the moonlight lent a helping hand. So entranced by the sight, he almost missed what she said. Looking back over her shoulder, she spoke invitingly, “Are you coming...or are you going to make me sleep alone?” Cologne, European Union, Sol System February, 2555 C.E. Anders sat at his desk, going over mission briefs, looking at the continuous situation reports that were coming in from the front. Nothing but pessimistic outlooks. Whenever the Alliance thought to could consolidate and hold a system against the Dominion's advances, defenses were either deemed inadequate to withstand an assault, or strongholds with sufficient garrisons were seen as vulnerable to encirclement and withdrawn. Anywhere and everywhere, the UEA couldn't stabilize a front to create a bulwark against the Xelanites and their allies, or at least long enough to give Alliance worlds hope, that some dignity could be salvaged from the catastrophe the war became. In order to safeguard what knowledge he could, to prevent the Alliance from being completely overrun, Anders knew he had to accelerate his program to match the speed of the enemy's onslaught. For humanity to truly guarantee its sovereignty for generations to come, to see they live free of alien influence and oppression, as Anders believed, something needed to be done immediately. Seeing how Jameson had failed to report in the previous day, and how what information he knew may have been compromised, the officer went about his next action with utmost urgency. Pushing a button on his desktop communicator, Anders ordered, “Put me contact with Shadow Initiative HQ right away.” The voice on the other end acknowledged, “Right away, sir.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lamia – witch Meretrix – whore Meus diligo – My lover Meus carus – My dear

[Shankbot de Bodemloze]

As always, a great couple of chapters. I love your writing style.

I wonder if knowing a child is on the way will change how Braedan is, but with Anders on the seen changing how he is could be dangerous indeed.

[Merchant of Venice]

Just caught up with all of this. Some really fabulous writing here, I love the plot and the characters and you write the dialogue between them so well and each scene has just the right amount of tension. It is all absolutely marvellous to read.

[HunterKYA]

As always, a great couple of chapters. I love your writing style.

I wonder if knowing a child is on the way will change how Braedan is, but with Anders on the seen changing how he is could be dangerous indeed.

Thank you, wise turtle sensei.

Through the course of the story, from the beginning until now, Braedan has perhaps evolved the most of any character. From the raid on Balian, the event that triggered the overarching theme of the story at the moment, Braedan has been transformed from a capable, albeit headstrong merc leader who was never timid about a fight, into a man whose taken on accountability and responsibility through his experiences. Through witnessing the deaths of friends (Fig) and innocents (Gracia) firsthand, Braedan saw the fatal repercussions of his actions. By facing his own mortality on Xeltana after the Alliance raid, then after narrowly escaping the destruction of Tartan Minor and rescuing Talia in the process, it forced Braedan to put things into greater perspective; it had the effect that he saw how far more people were suffering from his past mistakes, not just his crew.

Throw into the mix of having married Edhen and becoming a prospective father, an assumption could be made that it would make Braedan cautious, fearful of the consequences should he slip up somewhere. Then again, his drive to punish Anders could override thoughts of loss in the pursuit of getting his revenge.

Some really fabulous writing here, I love the plot and the characters and you write the dialogue between them so well and each scene has just the right amount of tension. It is all absolutely marvellous to read.

Really appreciate the compliment Merchant. Dare I say, it's one of the most positive comments I've gotten for any of my stories.

[Shankbot de Bodemloze]

Wise turtle sensei... if only!

I shall look forward to seeing which direction he takes.

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

Finally got caught up with this. I'm really enjoying it, and looking forward to finding out where it's going to go next.

[HunterKYA]

Intrigue

Standing solemnly, looking outside the window of the bedroom, Braedan peered at the dawn as it was about to crest the walls of the villa, ready to fill the room with a warm yellow glow. Behind, resting peacefully, lay his wife Edhen, unaware that her husband was awake, she was left undisturbed from her slumber to dream of pleasant times to come. The mercenary, already dressed, stood poised like he were ready for combat, for his sleep was so troubled throughout the night that he couldn't help but rise early, the name of 'Anders' echoing through his mind, the name that the captive agent Jameson had planted there. What Braedan knew, and what others would disagree with, was that he needed to find out more, because a name wasn't much to go on. He needed the names of subordinates, supply locations, secondary operating bases, fallback locations, anything and everything that Anders might use to prolong the Alliance's feeble chances of turning the outcome of the war. Braedan's goal was to let Anders know he was being hunted, hunted like the coward he was, and that he would die a coward's death when he was found, as he was made to answer for the lives he'd taken. Rolling onto her back, Edhen lay her arm across to feel the warmth of her husband's body. She was greeted by finding it unexpectedly vacant and cold, prompting the Courtesan to sit up, looking around to see Braedan by the window, at attention and motionless like a statue, save for the steadiness of his breathing. He paid no mind when she rolled out of bed to put on a robe, so as not to be strolling around half nude. Stretching her arms and getting out one last yawn, Edhen walked over to Braedan to find a focused expression on his face, an expression that wasn't heretofore unfamiliar to her. “A soldier's face is never hard to read,” she murmured, trying to shake sleep's grip on her. He replied, little to no inflection in his voice, “Is that right?” “Because they tell you everything you need to know without having to ask,” Edhen responded, “My father was the same when I was a child, although he thinks I was too young, they are among the first memories I have of him.” Without a word, Braedan's eyes remained directed toward the window. Edhen sounded flustered when she said, “The two of you would get along perfectly,” partly throwing her hands up, resorting to her native tongue in her irascible state, “Tu aliquando capitis,” rubbing her brow as she turned to walk away. Understanding every word, Braedan said, “I have to kill him.” Looking back at her husband, she queried, “What? Kill whom?” “The captive we took in yesterday, the one trying to crack your security,” he cleared his throat, “brought up a name I hadn't heard spoken aloud in years, the name of someone my conscience won't let me forget.” Edhen crossed her arms, “I hope this name holds some type of relevance.” Braedan did an about-face, his tone serious, “Recall that morning, before the war, in this very room, about my reasoning for leaving the Alliance? There's a connection. The name Jameson gave up during the interrogation, was the name of my commanding officer on Qal'tar, the same man responsible for ordering the massacre I told you about. It isn't outside the realm of possibility that he had a hand in the raid that happened here, to retrieve the artifact I took from them.” “In light of that,” Edhen shook her head, “it sounds like you're grasping for what isn't there.” Sighing, he knelt his head, “I can't ask for you to believe in any of this,” raising his eyes to meet hers, “all that I ask, is that you trust me to know what I'm doing.” Cupping her hands over her mouth, Edhen closed her eyes to hold back the tears, before pulling her hands away to sob, “I trust you implicitly, yet in the same breath, you don't know the dread I face each time I see you leave. Lest you forget, it's not just me anymore,” she briefly looked down to her stomach, “The only confidence I have to get through this, is knowing that you'll be there,” her lip quivered. “I cannot do this alone,” she declared, sitting down on the edge of the mattress, ”while you're off on some fool's errand, doing Gods knows what, on some Gods forsaken world that I haven't heard of, all while I anxiously speculate whether you'll be coming home.” Shoulders shuttering, Edhen held her head, covering her eyes as the tears came pouring out. Braedan was speechless as he watched his wife lay her emotions bare. Not knowing how to put it eloquently, he came out and said it plainly, “You don't need to understand why I have to do it. It'd be best not to involve you at all,” Braedan looked out the window, then back to his wife, “What I lacked when I took that damned thing, was the clairvoyance to see the consequences of what I'd done. All the time that's passed, all that's taken place, has given that to me. It may not feel like it at this moment, but it's what I need to do to protect you.” “Protect me? Protect me from what?” she cried. “Men like Anders are rabid dogs,” Braedan said, rubbing his lip with his forefinger before resuming, “When you keep your distance, they're passive, nothing to fear. It's when provoked that they're dangerous. There's only two outcomes when that happens: wait to be killed, or put them down.” He paused to make sure Edhen got the context. She did. Braedan stated, “You can push 'em back a thousand times, they'll just keep on coming. If I know him correctly, Anders will do the same thing, with the resources he's likely to have. The longer this drags out, he'll find out about me; and when he does, sooner or later, he'll find out about you. I have to put him down before it gets that far.” She once more shook her head, “Why does it need to be you? Surely there's someone you can contact.” Braedan uneasily chuckled, “Yeah, that'd go over real well. A traitor, being me, tipping off Alliance Intelligence about the activities of a residing Alliance officer, about an event that could be seen as hearsay, to spread rumors about said officer, from which he can plausibly deny without any evidence to the contrary. Does that sound good to you?” Edhen did her best to develop a counter-argument, but for all her intellect and skill, she couldn't find a rebuttal that wouldn't be rebuffed. “That's why it needs to be me,” he told her, “because I am that evidence. Without me, he walks a free man the rest of his life, in spite of all the blood on his hands. That's the reason I need to see Jameson again. Someone in a position, such as yours, could get me in the proximity.” “No,” Edhen outright refused, “while my position does grant me some authority and respect, I emphasize some, I would be seen as overstepping my boundaries with the number of people I would need to go through.” One could see Braedan's hopes deflate right there. Sitting down next to his wife, he held the same face of a guy who had just been rejected by his dream girl. Catching sight of that face, it perked up Edhen enough to make her grin just a little. She then leaned over, putting her head on his shoulder, watching as small bits of light now came streaming in through the window. Giving it one last try, Braedan sighed before whispering, “You sure there's nothing you can do?” She replied, “Personally...no, there's nothing I can do,” pausing to think it through for a moment, she said, “but there might be someone I know who could help. If you're willing to be patient on the subject, give me a day or two to arrange a meeting with my father, where I can discuss with him what you've told me of the situation, and we can see where it develops from there.” She took hold of his hand, which had been resting on his leg, as if to reassure him. “My father won't be an easy sell. If I can appeal to his well-being that this is in the best interests of the Dominion, that this A-A-Anders you speak of, poses a threat to the peace that comes after the war, the influence my father has could be what you're looking for,” squeezing Braedan's hand a bit tighter. Braedan faintly grinned, rolling his eyes, “Remember what it took to convince him to let me marry you? Transferred the amount he asked for the endowment, and you still had to damn near beg him before he thought I was worthy of you,” he sighed, “Best have an ace up your sleeve, since you'll need it.” “Quamvis obscura nocte surgere soles semper,” Edhen spoke soothingly. Tilting his head with an awkward grin, Braedan saw his wife regain her confidence. “All this time, and you still find ways of surprising me. Still don't know what it means though.” Sitting upright, she said with a faint, albeit proud smile, as her eyes met his, “It's an old saying, meaning 'No matter how dark the night, the suns will always rise.' It signifies, that even against the bleakest of odds, there will always be brighter days to come.” Gazing back out the window, the mercenary recounted almost stoically, “My people used to have sayings like those. But somewhere along the way, we lost our virtue...our humanity, and exchanged our honor for greed.” Edhen squeezed his hand to get her husband's attention. “Our better times will come, when this horrid war is over. All that you have to do, is hold the faith with every fiber of your being, against all the turmoil and chaos, and it will carry you through to the end.” He asked with an grin, “And what end is that?” Looking back at her stomach, a warm glow came over Edhen's face, “Seeing our child come into the world...together.” En route to Xeltana, Pax Capitolina Early March, 2555 C.E. A Shadow operative had stowed away aboard a Xelanite transport ship, ferrying a small group of displaced refugees to the safety of the homeworld. The attire of the Shadow, obscured by a hood and cloak, helped to make their infiltration of the vessel near effortless, for many of the refugees were wearing somewhat disheveled clothing, allowing the operative to blend in without any wary glances. Once aboard, they had separated themselves, veiled under the countenance of needing to be alone because of their trauma brought on by the war; which in turn, would give them the privacy needed should they be contacted. The transport, traveling at two-and-half-times hyperspeed, was a day away from Xeltana, when the operative heard a light chime coming from their holo-communicator. Finding a remote corner where no stray ears or eyes would find them, they answered the incoming message. Appearing before them, the holographic figure of an Alliance officer showed itself. “Greetings, Shadow. How goes your infiltration of the enemy ship?” The operative responded, “Infiltration successful, boarded without any suspicion of crew or refugees. The vessel remains a day out from the enemy capitol.” Acknowledging the response, the officer said, “Having gone over the mission brief, I needn't explain that your mission is of utmost priority. Our captured agent mustn't be permitted to disclose any further intelligence, beyond what they may have already revealed, which at this time, remains unknown to us. Your primary objective is to silence him, making him of no further use to the enemy.” Shallowly nodding their head, the Shadow replied, “Orders understood. Does Command have any further information I need to be aware of?” The officer, clearing his throat, said to the operative, “It has been brought to my attention, on an irrelevant note, that Xeltana was the last known location of a group of human mercenaries, who were seen actively aiding the enemy before the war. It is unclear of their status since that time. They are to be considered your secondary objective, and by the off-chance they are encountered, are to be discreetly eliminated.” “Very well, Command. Understood.” the Shadow answered, with all the coldness of a machine. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tu aliquando capitis - You are a headache sometimes

[Alwyn]

It's great to see Braedan's development continue! For me, one of the biggest questions for an AAR writer to answer is 'why do we fight?'. In this chapter, Braedan's newer identity (as a husband and prospective father) collides with his older identity (as a capable mercenary leader). When Edhen talks about doing this alone, while worrying about whether Braadan will return from a mission, she seems to be prompting him to answer the question 'why do you continue to fight (now that you are a husband and prospective father)?' I like your use of the Latin saying and the way that it shows that Edhen can still surprise Braedan.

[HunterKYA]

I like your use of the Latin saying and the way that it shows that Edhen can still surprise Braedan.

If you remember waaaaaaaay back in Chapter 3 - Part 3 of the original story, read carefully the description I give to the Xelanites dress and architecture. Next, go through all the terms and quotes I've had Edhen (and other Xelanites) use throughout the story. There's a deliberate pattern being used. The way I modeled the Xelanites - names, speech, dress, architecture, hierarchy - are all taken from ancient Rome, albeit being more advanced in nearly every respect. I wanted to give a picture of what Rome hypothetically could have become, without all the betrayal, if it had never fallen...and existed on another planet.

[HunterKYA]

Histories - Part 1

Gnaeus Domitian Aemilianus, son of Gnaeus Julian Aemilianus, was a stern adherent to the old ways. It had been expected of him, that upon transitioning from his formative years into that of a young adult, he would enter military service, as had been customary among Xelanite men for nearly five-thousand years. The virtues of discipline, honor, and duty had been instilled into Domitian long before by his father, and it is these he carried with him throughout many campaigns over the coming decades. His service would continue uninterrupted for close to four centuries, rising to the rank of Senior Magister, before deciding it was time to retire. Mind you, the usual period of military service was no more than one-hundred years, this however was of no concern for Domitian, whose own service was purely out of pride for his people. Not until after his retirement did Domitian think of marriage, and further from that, beginning a family. By Xelanite standards, he was middle-aged, his family's lineage was what attracted potential suitors, more so than anything regarding his admirable military career. Upon marriage, it was believed that Domitian would produce a strong line of sons who would serve the Dominion well. Less than a year later, he and Nicasia Velia were married, a woman who was three-hundred years his younger; the primary reason for the marriage however, was that Nicasia was in the prime of her child-bearing years, and could bear many children to continue Domitian's line should he so wish. Paired out of convenience and given little time to acquaint themselves before the union, they found little in common with each other, mostly because of their age difference, and the two instead devoted the majority of their time towards their respective careers. Nicasia was a Courtesan, who had worked her way through the Sisterhood in the previous one-and-a-half centuries, being on the cusp of reaching the rank of Senior Courtesan; as for Domitian, through contacts made during his military service, he was now fulfilling his duties as a newly-appointed Quaestor. What passion was shared between them was minimal, and often times, quite brief. It was hoped that settling down would tame Nicasia, who had been known to have had a promiscuous streak in her youth, yet while never caught in any compromising acts, gossip still circulated of her rumored deeds. When it was revealed she had conceived a child, it was unknown who exactly the father truly was, though Nicasia was equal amounts intelligent and calculating when charming Domitian into bed, to conceal her extra-marital activities. Giving birth to a girl a year later, it was perhaps the only time the couple was seen together for prolonged stretches, overjoyed at welcoming their daughter into the world. Initially naming her Edhenia, after the most prominent star in Xeltana's sky, it would later be shortened to Edhen to avoid any confusion between the two. Nicasia was visibly affected by the birth of her daughter, and at least for a while, it helped the Courtesan in curtailing the type of behavior she had exhibited before. As with any pregnancy, a woman is given a full year, six months before and after the birth, to get acclimated to their new or continued role of being a parent. All throughout this period of leave, Nicasia was never too far away if ever Edhen needed tending to, whether it be playing with her, feeding or changing her, or holding her until she fell asleep in her arms. This maternal compassion was new and unforetold to the Courtesan, who hadn't given much thought to being a mother, having gotten so used to the lifestyle she'd lived for decades; though now that the role had been given to her, Nicasia was unexpectedly embracing it. Those who had known her for many years remarked that, once returning to her role as Courtesan, Nicasia was increasingly open-minded, thoughtful, lighthearted and astonishingly enough, generous as well. For upwards of a year following the birth of their daughter, all was well with the Aemilianus family. That is, until Domitian began pressing Nicasia into having more children, something that she wasn't prepared to take on so soon after Edhen was born, mainly since it would force her to relinquish her role of Courtesan for another year to care for another child. The more the subject was brought up, the more it was deflected, not because Nicasia wasn't physically or mentally unprepared for the responsibility, it was done more so to spite Domitian for attempting to force it on her. Gradually, the Courtesan's true personality and its associative behaviors began to show themselves again, giving her an excuse for being away from her husband, both when he was home or had to be away. However, the longer this behavior persisted, Nicasia voluntarily sacrificed time with her infant daughter to fulfill her own needs and desires, leaving Edhen increasingly under the supervision of a caretaker when her parents were away. The relationship between husband and wife would devolve into what had existed when they were first married, albeit now, with their daughter caught in the middle. For while Domitian and Nicasia loved Edhen equally, it was the prospect of being in each other's company that kept them apart, leaving the girl under the primary care of her father for nearly her whole life. Years would pass and life would go on as it always had, settling into a routine, which would see Edhen grow from a toddler into a young girl, and from a young girl into a young woman. These years would also see her grow to resent Nicasia, for what Edhen saw as her mother abandoning her child to pursue her own selfish ways, this opinion was helped along by Domitian holding sway over her as well. And when Edhen's formative years were drawing to an end, it came as a surprise to her father that she elected to go through training to become a Courtesan. At this same time, Domitian himself was running for the office of Praetor, a position of significant standing, meaning that instead of discouraging his daughter from seeking a position similar to that of her mother, he wanted to be seen as supportive in the public eye. For personal reasons, and a general mistrust over local bodyguards because of allegiances, Domitian hired a group of mercenaries from offworld to act as his protection throughout the electorate campaign. Every so often, he would find Edhen fraternizing with one of the younger mercenaries, yet was dismissive of the thought that his daughter would be keen towards an outsider, thus paying no further mind to the matter. When the campaign was over, Domitian assumed his new role as Praetor, he also found Edhen's resolve renewed into focusing her efforts in her Courtesan training, once the mercenaries had departed. A few months later, on the celebration of her transition into young adulthood, Edhen would be selected from a group of four finalists to join the Sisterhood as a Courtesan, a prestigious honor. It was a rarity, for while daughters of Courtesans had been selected in the past, they were often selected after their mothers had concluded their service. Yet for Nicasia and Edhen to be counted among the ranks at the same time, it spoke well of their genes, for only women of exceptional beauty, intelligence, and physical conditioning prove themselves worthy of being called Courtesans. The next few years would pass without much in the way of anything noteworthy taking place. Domitian still held his position as Praetor, and Edhen had settled in to her role as Courtesan of the Laurel, and given her title, had moved into the Residence of the Courtesans as a sign of her new status. It was something well earned by his daughter, leaving the father immensely proud of the accomplishment, though Edhen's departure from her childhood home left a vacancy that Domitian could never quite fill, physically or mentally. For him, her presence and warmth were deeply missed. Until this point in time, humanity and their representative, the United Earth Alliance, had been seen as a minor faction by many since their appearance on the galactic stage nearly four centuries prior. The raid on Palma, by what would later be identified as several squads of Alliance special operations forces, would change that staid mindset in a single day. However isolated it may have been or contained it was by local guardsmen, the Alliance had proclaimed themselves a threat to the safety of the Dominion with this emboldened maneuver, and committed what many saw as an act of war. This changed the perception of humanity, from one of tolerance and cooperation, to that of belligerence and deceit. The only thing that stopped the Alliance from achieving their objective, was the dutiful efforts of a single person. Part of the only reason why Domitian accepted his daughter's request for marriage, was that while it was being discussed, Edhen revealed that he was the same man who had stopped the raid from succeeding. It somewhat sickened Domitian, knowing that she might be marrying a mercenary, soldiers who hold no loyalty but to those who paid them, fighting only for coin and their own well-being. Worst above all, was that he was human, a kind who had shown themselves to be without honor. Against his own prejudices and that of his conscience, the love for his daughter and the want to see her happy would be the only reasons he accepted the marriage proposal, that and the man had produced the amount necessary for the endowment. Domitian would have preferred his daughter marry into one of the noble families of Xeltana, though forcing this notion on Edhen would have been unwise, as she was stubborn and independently-minded like her mother, and losing her in a similar way as his wife wasn't an option for him. Over the next year and a half, war had broken out between the factions aligned with the Alliance and those of the Dominion. In its opening stages, the war favored the Alliance, who was attacking lightly-defended worlds and outposts along the fringes of Dominion space, piling up victory after victory. It wasn't until the decisive victory at the battle of Quin'ral was the Alliance offensive blunted. This would pave the way for a Dominion offensive of their very own, one which would not only see the Xelanites re-capture all they had lost in the opening phases of the conflict, but one that would take them deep into Alliance-held space. With the war now in its latter stages, and the Alliance reeling from one defeat after the next, it was time for the Dominion to begin strategizing how the post-war agenda would be addressed. Some within the Dominion High Council stressed that their forces should go to Earth, seat of the UEA, to hammer home that they were a vanquished people and accept unconditional surrender. Others would stipulate that such an act would merely strengthen the resolve of former Alliance worlds to resist occupation with guerrilla attacks. A middle ground was reached, that once the war was over, the pre-war boundaries between the Dominion and Alliance would be reestablished, but any offensive capabilities of the Alliance and its former allies would be restricted, by limiting the size of its armies and navies, along with the production of weapons. The Dominion would occupy the outer rim of Alliance space, helping to repair the damage inflicted during the war, along with showing the humans on these worlds all that was desired was a peaceful, cooperative existence and that there was no longer any need to fight. We now reach the present day, where we find Domitian at home, working in his office. Buried in his duties, he worked tirelessly like a man of younger years to get them completed, but there was never enough time in the day to finish it all. At about this interval, where he decided to take a break and stretch his legs by going for a stroll around the villa, Domitian was greeted by Trevonius, one of his faithful servants, to announce that the Praetor had a guest waiting for him in the atrium. When reaching the atrium, Domitian found a woman standing near the impluvium, with their back turned to him. Upon asking what business the woman had at his residence, the woman revealed herself to be none other than Edhen, and Domitian's normally stern demeanor melted away as he greeted his beautiful daughter. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Quaestor - magistrate who oversaw fiscal administration Praetor - high-ranking official with magisterial and/or military authority Impluvium - catch basin for rain water

[golded]

Glad to see you're still writing! I remember the first Titanium Core years ago. Loved it. I haven't read all of this one yet, but I'm already hooked.

[HunterKYA]

Glad to see you're still writing! I remember the first Titanium Core years ago. Loved it. I haven't read all of this one yet, but I'm already hooked.

As with everyone who's followed my work, thank you for the continued support.

[HunterKYA]

Histories: Part 2

Edhen greeted her father with a faux kiss on the cheek, before Domitian took her by the hands to have a chance to look her over. It had been many a month since looking upon the sight of his daughter's visage, and while he knew better, Domitian would have sworn she hadn't aged a day from the last time they saw each other, as busy as they were. The radiance adorned on her face, as paltry as it might be to note on one as beautiful as hers, gave her a glow that men would have tripped over themselves merely to gaze at. And as they started down the halls of the villa towards the tablinum, Domitian saw the generally pleasant manner with which Edhen carried herself, easing his thoughts about her well-being. Edhen asked, “So father, how goes your duties?” Domitian replied, in his deep, almost gravelly voice, “Oh you must know how it is. Securing procurement orders, helping to reorganize the planetary garrison, attending strategy meetings. To think I retired from the military for this. It's like I never left,” he finished with a smile. Grinning faintly, his daughter said, “Knowing you father, you wouldn't have it any other way, from the stories you told me as a girl.” Domitian returned a smile, “Even if they did bore you to tears, you would listen anyway.” They both got a small laugh out of his response. He then commented, “And you...how are your duties going? Edhen nodded, “Like yours, my duties keep me fairly busy, as well they should,” she sighed, “for unlike mother, I do not treat it as a game.” “You do your Sisters proud by serving with distinction,” Domitian's voice swelled, seeing the positive reaction from his daughter, “and pay no heed to your mother; for in the end, you will be thought of more highly than her.” Nearing the tablinum, the Praetor asked with a tinge of resentment, “I almost forgot to pose the question, but how goes your marriage to the savage?” Edhen replied perturbedly, “Father, please! He is not a savage! Tyler is rough around the edges, yes, and sometimes he can be hard to deal with, but he is far from barbarous. He is thoughtful, he is caring, he is kind to me. I could not ask for more from anyone.” Domitian turned to face his daughter, “Edhen, my dear child, I am only repeating what others have spoken; however impassioned your words are of him, do not put your faith into his people. Humans have proven themselves treacherous, what is to stop him from being the same with you?” Kneeling her head before looking up, she queried him, “Is it not enough, father, that he has fought his own people in this war? That he has killed dozens of his own kind? How he has lost friends and risked not only his life, but that of his team as well, on our behalf no less? When might it be enough to prove himself worthy of me in your eyes?” Domitian partly tilted his head back, sighing, before bringing it level, “Edhen, I accepted the proposal because I wanted to see you happy, not that I approved of him. I did not want to have you lingering, waiting to be drawn into a world of promiscuity like your mother.” “At some point, father,” Edhen's voice cracked, “you will have to accept him, not only as a man, but as the father of your grandchild.” The Praetor's face went blank, “Are you telling me...?” Fighting back her emotions, Edhen nodded, “Yes father, I am pregnant, but that is only part of the reason why I am here today. I came here seeking your help for my husband's sake.” Domitian scratched his forehead, “What could he require that you yourself could not provide for him?” “I do not have your authority, father,” the Courtesan replied, “he asked for something that is beyond my reach to provide, although, it is not beyond yours.” He was dismissive of her claim, “Edhen, you clearly over-exaggerate yourself.” Edhen shook her head, “No, father, I have not. Tyler has uncovered information that may be vital to preserving the peace after the war. He needs your authority in order to reveal more, to seek out and hunt down those who desire to do the Dominion harm.” Domitian answered in a subdued fashion, “Daughter, have you thought through what this request will of ask me,” he paused to look her in the eye, “though worse still, have you asked yourself why your 'husband' would ask such a thing of you, given his people's devious nature?” “Yes father, I have,” Edhen spoke softly, “he wants redemption for a past mistake, by hunting down the one responsible for ordering the terrible crime.” “Oh, my beautiful child,” the father expressed calmly, “we all know, by what reading through the Histories has taught us, is that stories of revenge rarely end well - for anyone. For what can start off as a noble cause, can often devolve into a cloud of madness, and the person seeking the revenge, is not who they were when they return...if they return.” “Will you do nothing then,” she sobbed, “because my husband will do this, with or without your approval. What I fear most, is that if he leaves without it,” Edhen held her head, “is that I will never see him again.” Domitian said coldly, “If that is the fate he wishes, then so be it.” Edhen gasped, a sneer forming on her face, “I cannot believe I hear these words from you, for the person who claims to want nothing but happiness for me, is but the same who wants nothing but heartache for me too.” “Daughter, I do indeed wish nothing but happiness for you,” the father rebounded, “but it would be a fool's errand to support your husband's cause. Please rethink your position.” Edhen denied his plea, “No, father, I am in my right mind with this. If my husband perishes in the Void, or someplace therein, I will have a daily reminder of his passing. I will get to look into the face of his child, that I bore in my womb, for the remainder of my days to think of what could have been, instead of what should have been. And when given time to think of that lost future, I will hold scorn for you, the one person whose assistance could have changed the outcome, all because he condemned the sins of entire race on one person.” Domitian could see the fiery contempt growing in her eyes, the same that had turned her mother against him years ago. In that same breath, he gathered a small inkling of the love his daughter held for this man, but the Praetor knew he could not move forward solely on the emotions of his child. He would need to hear it from the source himself. “I will consider your proposal, under one condition,” he stipulated. The Courtesan asked, surprised by his sudden turn around, “Which would be?” Clearing his throat, Domitian sternly said, “I am to meet the person who asks for my support. If after this congress has concluded and he has not convinced me of the worthiness of my support, I am sorry my dear, but your husband will be going about his endeavor alone.” Edhen objected, “But father...” “Or should I pass judgment now, without him, because of his impatient wife?” Domitian asked. Submitting to his decision, Edhen said, “No, father.” “Very good. Now go, return home and inform him of my intentions to meet. I will be along when my time permits.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tablinum - reception area, office

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

I imagine that's going to be an interesting meeting!

It's great to see this being updated.

[Alwyn]

Great updates, I wonder if Tyler will be able to convince Edhen's father.

[HunterKYA]

Intentions

Edhen returned back to the villa, as instructed, and upon finding Braedan, explained the details of the discussion she'd had with her father. With the Praetor's command, it was left intentionally vague as to when he would arrive, for it could be several minutes or several hours; but with a person of his stature, those who are to receive him are to be ready at any hour of day, even in the dead of night. While it was mid-afternoon when the Courtesan had returned, the hour was now late and as of yet, her father had sent no indicators or notice of his impending arrival. The need for sleep was beginning to dull her senses, when suddenly, a loud 'tap' was heard at the front door of the villa. This tap was heard once more before Edhen reached the door. Once it slid open, a lictor was standing before her, upright and at attention, holding the ceremonial staff each Praetor's senior bodyguard carried to announce his presence. “The most honorable Praetor, Gnaeus Domitian Aemilianus, demands entrance into your home. What say you?” the lictor bellowed, paying no heed to his voice's volume to the lateness of the hour. Startled, and without a word, the Courtesan moved from the doorway, allowing the entrance of the Praetor and three of his bodyguards into the villa, as two others and the lictor stood watch outside. Dressed in clothes befitting that of a senior magistrate, Domitian peered from side to side before customarily greeting his daughter, but was unimpressed as to the absence of her husband. The Praetor scoffed, if only in his own mind, as to this human's lack of deference for tradition. “Were you not told to inform your husband that I was coming?” Domitian, who was clearly annoyed, asked the Courtesan. Edhen bowed her head apologetically, “Yes father, he was.” “Then why might I ask, is he not here, standing by your side, as is his place?” the Praetor demanded. “You must excuse me, father,” she replied, “but my husband grew weary of waiting, and thus engaged himself with other tasks to help pass the time.” Domitian sighed, shaking his head, “This reflects not only poorly on him, but it reflects poorly on you, showing an unacceptably lax discipline in methods of keeping him occupied within your presence. I am most disappointed.” Edhen spoke sorrowfully, “There are no excuses for my ill-discipline, father.” “Truly, there are not,” the Praetor exclaimed, “for it is not of concern how you occupy his time, so long as your husband is here, where he belongs. You could have been f---ing him for all I care, as long as he was in your presence. Although, why should that stop your indulgences? It is plain to me now, that you have let your reason be corrupted by your infatuations, a by-product of your mother as you grew in her womb.” “But it is his right, as my husband, to do with me as he wishes,” the Courtesan answered submissively. “What is this insolence from you?” Domitian quietly asked, standing within arm's reach, leering over his child, “Are you trying to instruct me as to the rights of a husband...daughter?” Edhen knelt her head, “No, father.” “Then go fetch your husband, before I decide coming here was a waste of my time.” The Courtesan retreated deeper into the villa in pursuit of Braedan's location. Upon finding him, Edhen found him spending time with Masaki, playing some of the Holo games he'd most recently downloaded earlier that day, leaving her with an irked look on her face. Going over to his seat, the wife forcibly and angrily grabbed him by the arm, dragging him out of the room into the hall. The Courtesan railed into him, “My father is here, and where do I find you? Playing games like a child! I cannot honestly believe you right now! You seriously have to grow up!” “Whoa, whoa, wh...he's here?” Braedan flashed a surprised look, “how long has he been here?” Edhen crossed her arms, jeering at him, “My father has been here long enough to chastise me, because my husband, who was supposed to be with me, was visibly absent while I was greeting him. To say he took the slight lightly, would be a vast understatement,” gritting her teeth as she finished. Braedan anxiously smiled, “I think you may be blowing this out of proportion a bit.” “Then you go out there and apologize to him, and say it was all a misunderstanding”, she irately told her husband before smacking him, “You seek his sponsorship, and in turn, you insult him and embarrass me!”, holding a finger in Braedan's face, “You aren't the only one who has something to lose here!” Taking hold of the front of his wrist, the two of them walked at a brisk pace back towards the entrance to the villa, with Edhen still rightfully fuming at her husband's behavior. Right before they were to turn the corner, the Courtesan released her grip and put up a faint smile, to display a facade to her father that she had thankfully found her husband, in order for their meeting to begin. The Praetor's face though, might as well have been made of stone, for his countenance had changed little in the time it'd taken for his daughter to find her spouse, and had held thoughts of leaving before she'd made her reappearance. Edhen practically nudged Braedan toward her father, and there, within a few feet of each other, the former soldiers finally met face to face. Walking around the human, the Praetor eyed him up and down, unable to fathom how his noble, albeit naive daughter, settled for a being that looked to be little more than a vagabond. The man's attire lacked any clear structure and as for his personal appearance, Domitian didn't even know where to begin. Before him, stood the person who single-handed cleared an enemy platoon from the Academy of Research and Science, yet the mere notion of this thought made the Praetor inwardly cringe, for no one as ill-disciplined as this could achieve such a feat. Standing off to the side was Edhen, for as bereft of sympathy as she'd been toward Tyler while they were walking the halls, witnessing her father's judgmental gaze searing its way into him, she grew increasingly worried the longer the silence between them went on. “Why should I lend you my endorsement?” Domitian asked, breaking the silence in the room. Braedan cocked a confused eyebrow, “What do you mean by 'endorsement?'” Stopping in front of the mercenary, the Praetor said, “My daughter here,” directing an open hand to Edhen, “has given me a rudimentary overview, but I wanted to hear it from you. Why is it I should offer support to your cause, more less...why should I risk my position for you?” “Your daughter,” Braedan looked over to his wife, then back to the Praetor, “she seems to trust me.” Domitian gave him a cold stare, never looking away, “My child, however much love I may hold for her, has in the past, let her feelings obscure sound reasoning. With you, I am afraid she may have repeated the same mistake, for how she could become attached to someone as uncultured as you, is beyond me.” Braedan's eyes glanced over to Edhen. “Do not look to her for help,” the Praetor reminded him, “she has no say in my decision here. Whatever goes on, goes on between you and I, and your tone will play a determining factor. Remember this before you think of lashing out: Make one mistake, in answer or action, and my daughter is looking for a new husband.” Edhen protested, “Father!” Domitian pointed at her until she knew to remain silent, without moving his eyes away from the human, exercising his authority over both of them. “You have rubbed off too much on her,” the Praetor paused to crack his knuckles, then continued casually, “but I will let that pass for now. Let us get back to my original question: Why should I give you aide and risk my name, all so you can fulfill some long-standing vendetta against another man? For if my understanding is correct, both you and he are equally responsible. Which poses another question: Why should I trust what you say?” “From what little I know of you,” Braedan started off, “is that when an officer gives an order, it's the soldier who carries it out, whether they have moral objection or not.” Domitian nodded with subtlety, “It is a relief you have a mind in that head of yours, though that does not change what has taken place, whatever the crime may have been. Officer or soldier, it makes no difference, the truth remains that both of you are responsible.” For Edhen's sake, Braedan restrained his response, “We're both responsible, hmm? I didn't see Anders participating in the slaughter of hundreds of innocent people. I didn't see Anders as those people begged for their lives, asking us to stop, even as they were being cut down. I didn't see Anders stacking bodies in buildings like cordwood when it was all over. I didn't see Anders when we were setting those buildings ablaze, the smell of burning flesh choking our sinuses with the stench, just to hide the evidence. But you want to know where he was? Anders and his privileged ass were sitting in an APV, so he didn't have to hear the gunfire or the screams, so he didn't have to see the bodies stacked a meter high, and so he didn't have to smell them as they burned. So you can think what you want about responsibility.” Domitian listened, but was still unmoved, “Sorrowful as events may be, my position has not changed. Rather than sway my sympathies, it only serves to further reinforce the belief that humans do not know how to adequately govern themselves, or their emotions.” “How can you be so goddamn heartless?!?” Braedan proclaimed. “I would watch your words,” the Praetor spoke slowly, leaning in towards Braedan's face, “the sole explanation for me being here,” he again directed an open hand to Edhen, “is the person you call your wife. She came to my residence, pleading for my help on your behalf, but now I see it was not worth the time or the effort, when I could have been engaging myself in more productive matters.” And like that, the Praetor turned on his heel and was preparing himself to leave. Thanking his daughter for the visit, Braedan quickly turned his eyes to his wife, holding his head in disgrace. In a state of desperation and without alternative, the thought of losing Edhen, the only person he knew he could ever truly love, the human began speaking the first words that came to mind, a shudder in his voice. “Picture being torn from your mother's arms as a child, having your father take his own life,” the words stopped Domitian in his tracks, thinking the meeting was over, “having your future stolen from you. Being taught to be cold, to feel nothing, to never question anything. They did that to my brother, they did that to me. You asked why I want to kill this man...my answer to you is this: It's so what happened to me, doesn't happen to anyone else. So that Anders, and men like him, cannot deprive another child from the guiding words of their fathers,” Braedan paused to gather himself, “...or the loving embrace of their mothers.” He stood there, with nothing left of himself to give, seemingly defeated. Domitian turned to face his son-in-law, “Were it not for that final line, I would have been out the door,” he sighed, “While as crude as your people can be, words like those prove you have some promise,” going up to Braedan to place a hand on his shoulder, “and I would be amiss to deprive my grandchild of their father.” Giving him and Edhen a solemn nod, the Praetor then quietly exited the villa, with his bodyguards in tow. With her father gone, the Courtesan went over to Braedan, wrapping her arms around his waist. She didn't speak, still captivated by what she'd seen, touched by her husband's words and relieved by her father's final decision, Edhen knew that she could breathe easier, if only for one night. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lictor - officer attending the needs of magistrates

[Alwyn]

A powerful chapter - the dialogue is brilliant, I sympathised initially with Edhen and then with Braeden, speaking not just for the Praetor's endorsement but for his own life. I agree with Braeden, Domitian does come across as heartless - is that a reflection of his culture and high status or is Domitian simply not a nice guy?